


All Roads Lead to Rome

by GobIin



Category: Night at the Museum (Movies)
Genre: Introspection, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 19:10:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6389602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GobIin/pseuds/GobIin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the end of the third movie, Jedediah thinks about the man through the wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Roads Lead to Rome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bug_from_space](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bug_from_space/gifts).



> Hey everyone! So this is my first attempt writing in this fandom. But I just watched the last movie, and this begged to be written. 
> 
> Dedicated to Bug_from_Space, who has been feeling really poorly recently!

That was it.  They were done.

It was a strange thought, even though he had had the entire flight back from England to consider it.  If he were being entirely honest, Jedediah wasn't sure he could believe it.  He had felt no different!  Surely a man who had made such a monumental decision should feel something.  Holy, or empowered, or whatever.

But no.  It really was just any other night, as far as his bones were concerned.  And if his chest felt a little heavier, well, he had some experience now with ignoring that.

They had gone their separate ways, taken their places, just the same as any other night.  And as dawn drew closer, Jedediah looked out at the world beyond the polished glass case for the last time.  Waiting for something different.  A sign that this night would be different, and when evening came, they would... What?

His breath shuddered in his lungs as he exhaled, feeling the burn of holding it for just a minute too long.

Maybe it was just the realization that the world didn't notice.  They were all giving up their goddamn.. Whatever this was.  And nobody knew.

Restlessly, Jedediah shucked the 6 shooter from his hip, turning the familiar grip around in his fingers.  If he were being honest; and damn, if there was one time in his life that a man should face the music it was at the hour of his death; he wasn't that upset about the dying part.  It wasn't the unknown, or the pain (he didn't think about the former, and the latter just didn't matter much) that weighed so heavily on his conscience.

Jed breathed in more heavily, reminding himself that he still could.

But it just seemed so gosh darn  _wrong_ to be doing it alone.  On the other side of the glass, he was sure that Octavius would be trying to make a good show for his men.  Leading by example, and all that shit.  Armour bright and cloak perfect, and so dam pretentious that it made Jed's teeth ache with gritting them.  

He'd done that a lot since they had properly met. 

Octavius and his stubborn damn habit of saying all sorts of things that men just weren't  _supposed_ to say.  You didn't comment on another fellow's eyes, or how handsome he might be.  A real man just kept that all to himself.  Jedediah had turned swallowing all those thoughts into a damn art form, and it had done him no harm.

And you sure as Hell didn't notice those things about puffed up knights in ridiculous armor.  Swaggering around like they owned the place, and nearly getting the whole lot of them killed and all.  

Jed noticing Octavius' armor was different.  Of course.  Because he was a cowboy, it'd be a shame for him to  _miss_ all that gold.  Romans flashed the stuff around like it was going out of style, no thought for the poor bastards working their hands to the bone to get it.  And who ever heard of wearing armor with a skirt?  No sir. That wasn't how things were done.

This time, Jedediah wasn't sure if he had been breathing, or if he had forgotten.  Too stone stupid and distracted, he figured.  Minutes left until dawn, maybe even less, and he was thinking about some soldier on the other side of the glass, instead of his own fool lungs.

Because he most certainly wasn't wondering if Octo was scared.  

Or clenching his own fingers just a little tighter into his palm, trying to remember how it felt when the Roman had reached out for his hand.  It had been clammy, and Jed was just grateful that nobody had seen him acting like _that_.  It might be fine for the sort of men that pranced around in dresses, but no, not for a real man like him!

You were supposed to face your death bravely, and without regret.  But Jed was sure that everyone had some damn doubts.  Couldn't go through a whole life without those.  Everyone had words they hadn't said; and great, stupid knights that they hadn't challenged to a proper duel.  Pistols at dawn, and that might have shut up Octo, stopped him making them eyes at him.

Only Lancelot was on the other side of the world, now.  And Octavius was through the glass, which might as well have been an ocean, or a thousand miles.  

Huffing a breath, Jedediah spun his pistol around his finger, letting it slide home on his belt.   

Because he sure as Hell wasn't thinking about the forever ahead of them, or the fact that he would never cross that glass again.  

He had lived the best way he knew how, hadn't he?

Everyone had regrets.

Then dawn came up over the horizon, brilliant light spilling through the windows at the end of the hallway.  Jedediah felt the world slow, and slow.  

And then it stopped.


End file.
